First Impressions
by rps-lizardspock
Summary: When Jess met Sam.


Title: First Impressions

Author: Sammy Girl At Heart

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own it. You KNOW I don't own it. Must I have to repeat it every time?

Beta: Me. Cause Chantelle is never around anymore \

Summary: When Jess met Sam.

A/N: Umm, so I wrote this for Supernatural.tv's fanfiction challenge: First Impressions. I read the prompt and immediately wanted to write Sam meeting Jess. And I know, Chantelle and Mary, I hate Jess. I still remember this, and I cannot explain why I keep writing about her, but whatever. So here's the story. I don't really like it all that much, but I guess y'all get to be the judge now. Enjoy.

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And so it begins: the first day of the rest of my life. At least that's what everyone has ever told me. _'College will open all new doors for you'_, _'It'll be the best experience of your life'_, or my personal favorite, _'One day, you'll look back at your time there and you'll smile when you remember all the good times'_. So far, I don't see it happening. First day for classes and I've already slept through my alarm, missed breakfast, gotten lost twice, and been late to my first class in which I was completely lost; I mean pre-law? What the hell was I thinking? Now I'm on my way back to my dorm - _'Should I have taken a left back there?' – _and guess what? I'm lost again. Perfect. I vaguely entertain the saying "Third time's the charm" before the pessimist in me takes back over. I look behind me to try and see something familiar. Nothing. This is getting ridiculous. I glance around again, looking behind me as I try and figure out where the hell I am, and I turn around and run into a wall. Great... just freaking perfect. Books are scattered, papers flying everywhere, pens and pencils going this way and that. Just another thing to add to an already miserable day. I look up to see how I could have possibly misjudged the distance so badly as to run into an inanimate object when I see him, bending over to pick up my belongings that are littered on the sidewalk. So the wall I ran into was a six foot six muscular guy with shaggy hair. I was close. I look at him and I see his lips moving. Was he talking to me? Snapping out of it, I finally hear that he's apologizing.

"…I really am sorry, I was lost and I wasn't paying attention… looking behind me… didn't even see you," he babbles. He's so pathetically cute that I almost let him keep going.

"Hey, it's all right, I didn't see you either," I finally interrupt.

"I just… I'm sorry. I should've been paying attention. If my brother saw me now, he'd never let me live this down," he apologizes again, and I find myself wondering if his brother is nearly as cute as he is.

"Really, it's no problem. I'm lost, too, actually. You'd think they'd give us a map or something to get around," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, I have a map. It doesn't help."

"Really? Let me see." He hands me his map and for a second his hand brushes against mine, and damn if I'm not blushing. I shake my head and get back to the task at hand: finding out where the hell I am. After a minute of staring at the map I sigh exasperatedly, "You're right, completely useless," I say, handing him back the piece of paper.

"Hey, you know, you look familiar. Were you in Roberts' class this morning?" he asks me, and I frown, trying to remember if that was the teacher's name.

"Yeah, pretty sure. I was about five minutes late. Me and directions are not such good friends," I reply, suddenly getting butterflies in my stomach. What the heck was wrong with me?

"Yeah, that's the class. So you're going pre-law, too, then?" he says as he hands me the last book from the ground.

"That's the plan, at least. It was kinda mom's dream. I really couldn't care less. How about you? Your mom or dad pressuring you to become the next Cochran?" I ask, and I realize that we're now walking down the hall together.

"Um, no, actually," he replies hesitantly. "My mom died when I was a baby. And Dad was really against the idea of me going to college. He said if I was going to go, then not to come back, then kicked me out of the house."

"Oh wow, that's gotta suck. What kind of father doesn't support his kid wanting to be a lawyer?" I say and I mentally slap myself. What kind of person asks a question like that?! I look away for a second, wincing as I try to forget about the insensitive remark I just made. I look back up and he's smiling at me, almost as if he's happy I was so blunt.

"You just have to know my dad, I guess. It's not so bad, though. My brother, Dean, has always been behind me and supported my decisions," he says, smiling sadly.

The small talk fizzles out as we continue walking down the hall.

"So," I say, never one for awkward silences, "How about them Yankees?"

He bursts out laughing. "What?" he asks incredulously.

"Just trying to make small talk," I shrug and then fall silent again. Tough crowd.

"I'm more of a Sox fan, actually. And before you ask, I like 'em White."

And from there we talk about the weather, which leads, remarkably, to movies, then to music and books, and poets, and before I know it, we've sat down on a bench and we're talking and laughing and he's smiling so big his dimples are showing, and when he asks me if I'd like to go for coffee tomorrow morning, the thought of turning him down seems so crazy that I immediately accept the offer. I glance down at my watch. 4:30. Wasn't it just 1? He looks at his phone and frowns. Looks like we both lost track of time. He stands up and I follow suit.

"I really should get going now," he confesses.

"Yeah, me too. Can you believe we have homework already today?" I say, and once again I mentally slap myself. I'm standing in front of this gorgeous guy and now we're about to part ways and I'm talking about homework? Smooth.

He laughs, though, and those dimples and going to be the death of me.

"Well, I'm fairly certain that I'm off that way," he says, pointing to the left.

"And I think I'm going just the opposite way," I reply. He smiles again and my heart is doing that melting thing again.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning then?"

"Oh definitely," I say, and I swear if I smile anymore, it'll freeze this way.

"Great," he says, again with the smiling. "I'll meet you here, then?"

I nod, and he nods. I smile, and he smiles. He starts backing up, and I stand where I am. He gives me a little wave accompanied by a tiny smile, and turns his back on me, walking away. I start to walk toward the direction my dorm might be in when I hear his voice again. I turn around quickly and see him walking back toward me.

"Ya know, I never did catch your name," he says as he stops in front of me and I realize that the entire time we talked we never exchanged our names.

"I'm Jess," I say.

"Sam."

"It's nice to meet you, Sam," I say, holding out my hand to shake his. And what the heck, Jess? A handshake? You're losing it, girl.

He grabs my hand and shakes it. "Likewise," he replies letting go and turning around back in the direction he was heading.

I watch him go this time until he's so far away and into the crowd that I can barely make out which person is him. I smile again as I turn back around. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

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Poor Jess. She really shoulda turned around and never looked back. Oh well D Umm, Sam liking the White Sox was for Mary, cause I know it'll make her laugh.

Please Review!

Melissa


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